Chronicles of Martin Hewitt Part 5
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"There's the steward of the _Nicobar_ there too, sir," said the man after the captain had gone, "and the carpenter."
"Very well, we'll see Mr. Brasyer first," said Merrick, and the man vanished. "It seems to have got about a bit," Merrick went on to Hewitt.
"I only sent for Brasyer, but as these others have come, perhaps they've got something to tell us."
Brasyer made his appearance, overflowing with information. He required little a.s.surance to encourage him to speak openly before Hewitt, and he said again all he had so often said before on board the _Nicobar_. The bullion-room was a mere tin box, the whole thing was as easy to get at as anything could be, he didn't wonder in the least at the loss--he had prophesied it all along.
The men whose movements should be carefully watched, he said, were the captain and the steward. "n.o.body ever heard of a captain and a steward being so thick together before," he said. "The steward's pantry was next against the bullion-room, you know, with nothing but that wretched bit of three-eighths boiler plate between. You wouldn't often expect to find the captain down in the steward's pantry, would you, thick as they might be. Well, that's where I used to find him, time and again. And the steward kept boiler-makers' tools there! That I can swear to. And he's been a boiler-maker, so that, likely as not, he could open a joint somewhere and patch it up again neatly so that it wouldn't be noticed.
He was always messing about down there in his pantry, and once I distinctly heard knocking there, and when I went down to see, whom should I meet? Why, the skipper, coming away from the place himself, and he bullyragged me for being there and sent me on deck. But before that he bullyragged me because I had found out that there were other keys knocking about the place that fitted the padlocks on the bullion-room door. Why should he slang and threaten me for looking after these things and keeping my eye on the bullion-room, as was my duty? But that was the very thing that he didn't like. It was enough for him to see me anxious about the gold to make him furious. Of course his character for meanness and greed is known all through the company's service--he'll do anything to make a bit."
"But have you any positive idea as to what has become of the gold?"
"Well," Brasyer replied, with a rather knowing air, "I don't think they've dumped it."
"Do you mean you think it's still in the vessel--hidden somewhere?"
"No, I don't. I believe the captain and the steward took it ash.o.r.e, one case each, when we came off in the boats."
"But wouldn't that be noticed?"
"It needn't be, on a black night like that. You see, the parcels are not so big--look at them, a foot by a foot and a half by six inches or so, roughly. Easily slipped under a big coat or covered up with anything. Of course they're a bit heavy--eighty or ninety pounds apiece altogether--but that's not much for a strong man to carry--especially in such a handy parcel, on a black night, with no end of confusion on. Now you just look here--I'll tell you something. The skipper went ash.o.r.e last in a boat that was sent out by the coasting steamer that ran into us. That s.h.i.+p's put into dock for repairs and her crew are mostly having an easy time ash.o.r.e. Now I haven't been asleep this last day or two, and I had a sort of notion there might be some game of this sort on, because when I left the s.h.i.+p that night I thought we might save a little at least of the stuff, but the skipper wouldn't let me go near the bullion-room, and that seemed odd. So I got hold of one of the boat's crew that fetched the skipper ash.o.r.e, and questioned him quietly--pumped him, you know--and he a.s.sures me that the skipper _did_ have a rather small, heavy sort of parcel with him. What do you think of that? Of course, in the circ.u.mstances, the man couldn't remember any very distinct particulars, but he thought it was a sort of square wooden case about the size I've mentioned. But there's something more." Brasyer lifted his fore-finger and then brought it down on the table before him--"something more. I've made inquiries at the railway station and I find that two heavy parcels were sent off yesterday to London--deal boxes wrapped in brown paper, of just about the right size. And the paper got torn before the things were sent off, and the clerk could see that the boxes inside were fastened with hoop-iron--like those!" and the second officer pointed triumphantly to the boxes piled at one side of the cabin.
"Well done!" said Hewitt. "You're quite a smart detective. Did you find out who brought the parcels, and who they were addressed to?"
"No, I couldn't get quite as far as that. Of course the clerk didn't know the names of the senders, and not knowing me, wouldn't tell me exactly where the parcels were going. But I got quite chummy with him after a bit, and I'm going to meet him presently--he has the afternoon off, and we're going for a stroll. I'll find something more, I'll bet you!"
"Certainly," replied Hewitt, "find all you can--it may be very important. If you get any valuable information you'll let us know at once, of course. Anything else, now?"
"No, I don't think so; but I think what I've told you is pretty well enough for the present, eh? I'll let you know some more soon."
Brasyer went, and Norton, the steward of the old s.h.i.+p, was brought into the cabin. He was a sharp-eyed, rather cadaverous-looking man, and he spoke with sepulchral hollowness. He had heard, he said, that there was something wrong with the chests of bullion, and came on board to give any information he could. It wasn't much, he went on to say, but the smallest thing might help. If he might speak strictly confidentially he would suggest that observation be kept on Wickens, the carpenter. He (Norton) didn't want to be uncharitable, but his pantry happened to be next the bullion-room, and he had heard Wickens at work for a very long time just below--on the under side of the floor of the bullion-room, it seemed to him, although, of course, he _might_ have been mistaken.
Still, it was very odd that the carpenter always seemed to have a job just at that spot. More, it had been said--and he (Norton) believed it to be true--that Wickens, the carpenter, had in his possession, and kept among his stores, keys that fitted the padlocks on the bullion-room door. That, it seemed to him, was a very suspicious circ.u.mstance. He didn't know anything more definite, but offered his ideas for what they were worth, and if his suspicions proved unfounded n.o.body would be more pleased than himself. But--but--and the steward shook his head doubtfully.
"Thank you, Mr. Norton," said Merrick, with a twinkle in his eye; "we won't forget what you say. Of course, if the stuff is found in consequence of any of your information, you won't lose by it."
The steward said he hoped not, and he wouldn't fail to keep his eye on the carpenter. He had noticed Wickens was in the tug, and he trusted that if they were going to question him they would do it cautiously, so as not to put him on his guard. Merrick promised they would.
"By the bye, Mr. Norton," asked Hewitt, "supposing your suspicions to be justified, what do you suppose the carpenter would do with the bullion?"
"Well, sir," replied Norton, "I don't think he'd keep it on the s.h.i.+p.
He'd probably dump it somewhere."
The steward left, and Merrick lay back in his chair and guffawed aloud.
"This grows farcical," he said, "simply farcical. What a happy family they must have been aboard the _Nicobar_! And now here's the captain watching the second officer, and the second officer watching the captain and the steward, and the steward watching the carpenter! It's immense.
And now we're going to see the carpenter. Wonder whom _he_ suspects?"
Hewitt said nothing, but his eyes twinkled with intense merriment, and presently the carpenter was brought into the cabin.
"Good-day to you, gentlemen," said the carpenter in a soft and deferential voice, looking from one to the other. "Might I 'ave the honour of addressin' the salvage gentlemen?"
"That's right," Merrick answered, motioning him to a seat. "This is the salvage shop, Mr. Wickens. What can we do for you?"
The carpenter coughed gently behind his hand. "I took the liberty of comin', gentlemen, consekins o' 'earin' as there was some bullion missin'. P'raps I'm wrong."
"Not at all. We haven't found as much as we expected, and I suppose by this time nearly everybody knows it. There are two cases wanting. You can't tell us where they are, I suppose?"
"Well, sir, as to that--no. I fear I can't exactly go as far as that.
But if I am able to give vallable information as may lead to recovery of same, I presoom I may without offence look for some reasonable small recognition of my services?"
"Oh, yes," answered Merrick, "that'll be all right, I promise you. The company will do the handsome thing, of course, and no doubt so will the underwriters."
"Presoomin' I may take that as a promise--among gentlemen"--this with an emphasis--"I'm willing to tell something."
"It's a promise, at any rate as far as the company's concerned,"
returned Merrick. "I'll see it's made worth your while--of course, providing it leads to anything."
"Purvidin' that, sir, o' course. Well, gentlemen, my story ain't a long one. All I've to say was what I 'eard on board, just before she went down. The pa.s.sengers was off, and the crew was gettin' into the other boats when the skipper turns to the steward an' speaks to him quiet-like, not observin', gentlemen, as I was agin 'is elbow, so for to say. "Ere, Norton,' 'e sez, or words to that eff.e.c.k, 'why shouldn't we try gettin' them things ash.o.r.e with us--you know, the cases--eh? I've a notion we're pretty close insh.o.r.e,' 'e sez, 'and there's nothink of a sea now. You take one, anyway, and I'll try the other,' 'e says, 'but don't make a flourish.' Then he sez, louder, 'cos o' the steward goin'
off, 'They're the likeliest stuff, and at worst we can but drop 'em. But look sharp,' 'e says. So then I gets into the nearest boat, and that's all I 'eard."
"That was all?" asked Hewitt, watching the man's face sharply.
"All?" the carpenter answered with some surprise. "Yes, that was all; but I think it's pretty well enough, don't you? It's plain enough what was meant--him and the steward was to take two cases, one apiece, on the quiet, and they was the likeliest stuff aboard, as he said himself. And now there's two cases o' bullion missin'. Ain't that enough?"
The carpenter was not satisfied till an exact note had been made of the captain's words. Then after Merrick's promise on behalf of the company had been renewed, Wickens took himself off.
"Well," said Merrick, grinning across the table at Hewitt, "this is a queer go, isn't it? What that man says makes the skipper's case look pretty fishy, doesn't it? What he says, and what Brasyer says, taken together, makes a pretty strong case--I should say makes the thing a certainty. But what a business! It's likely to be a bit serious for some one, but it's a rare joke in a way. Wonder if Brasyer will find out anything more? Pity the skipper and steward didn't agree as to whom they should pretend to suspect. _That's_ a mistake on their part."
"Not at all," Hewitt replied. "_If_ they are conspiring, and know what they're about, they will avoid seeming to be both in a tale. The bullion is in bars, I understand?"
"Yes, five bars in each case; weight, I believe, sixteen pounds to a bar."
"Let me see," Hewitt went on, as he looked at his watch; "it is now nearly two o'clock. I must think over these things if I am to do anything in the case. In the meantime, if it could be managed, I should like enormously to have a turn under water in a diving-dress. I have always had a curiosity to see under the sea. Could it be managed now?"
"Well," Merrick responded, "there's not much fun in it, I can a.s.sure you; and it's none the pleasanter in this weather. You'd better have a try later in the year if you really want to--unless you think you can learn anything about this business by smelling about on the _Nicobar_ down below?"
Hewitt raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.
"I _might_ spot something," he said; "one never knows. And if I do anything in a case I always make it a rule to see and hear everything that can possibly be seen or heard, important or not. Clues lie where least expected. But beyond that, probably I may never have another chance of a little experience in a diving-dress. So if it can be managed I'd be glad."
"Very well, you shall go, if you say so. And since it's your first venture, I'll come down with you myself. The men are all ash.o.r.e, I think, or most of them. Come along."
Hewitt was put in woollens and then in india-rubbers. A leaden-soled boot of twenty pounds' weight was strapped on each foot, and weights were hung on his back and chest.
"That's the dress that Gullen usually has," Merrick remarked. "He's a very smart fellow; we usually send him first to make measurements and so on. An excellent man, but a bit too fond of the diver's lotion."
"What's that?" asked Hewitt.
"Oh, you shall try some if you like, afterwards. It's a bit too heavy for me; rum and gin mixed, I think."
A red nightcap was placed on Martin Hewitt's head, and after that a copper helmet, secured by a short turn in the segmental screw joint at the neck. In the end he felt a vast difficulty in moving at all. Merrick had been meantime invested with a similar rig-out, and then each was provided with a communication cord and an incandescent electric lamp.
Chronicles of Martin Hewitt Part 5
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Chronicles of Martin Hewitt Part 5 summary
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